


The Reign of The Undead

by the_big_cities_captain_jack_sparrow



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, apocalypse au, humanstuck AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6148867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_big_cities_captain_jack_sparrow/pseuds/the_big_cities_captain_jack_sparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where the undead roam and the living still fight, but what will happen when some grow too attached to another? Does it it matter at all in the end? Do they have enough heart to go on without the other half of themself being torn out and ripped to shreds? Who gets together and kills the other all hangs in the balance in front of their eyes. Their fates are like cats and strings, it is going to get messed with soon enough after a period of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flashbacks and Regret

**Author's Note:**

> [ Warning: Your heart may be broken. ]

Chapter One:

> Be the best goddamn albino in the world

You got that right. Now time to be the very best, like no one ever was- Pokémon! Okay, okay this is not time to break into song but you couldn’t help it. Now to go on with the story after rambling like a little shit that you are, and that you are proud to be.

 

> Narrate Dave Strider, check 

Bleached blonde-like hair sticks to the sweat-covered forehead, wind blowing slightly around the skinny figure as the sun dips out of the sky into another day. Stretching tiredly his left hand is brought up to his shade covered eyes, a gift, his goal to never take them off. The sun hurt his delicate albino red eyes anyway, so there was an actual good reason why he wore them even inside, especially when a teacher would ask him to remove them. 

People judged him for it, he knew, but it still did not mean he didn’t care about their opinions. Other’s judgment hurt him but sooner or later he would have to break and this was one of his moments. Everyone once and a while a tear would accidentally slip from his tear ducts, making him feel weak especially what has been happening recently with the world ending and all. The world is practically ending and mother-fucking nature has blessed you with a shit storm of feelings and zombies barking up your front door, let’s just say it’s not very fun.

“I knew I would find you here,” A femininely calm voice emits from behind him; turning to face the fellow blonde he called his sister. Her name was Rose, Rose Lalonde and she is a very nosy person. She seemed to never get out of Dave’s business and that annoyed the older twin of the two very much. 

Her outfit was the same as always and it never changed. She still wore a short white skirt with her symbol marking on her shirt, which is also white, the light purple squid showing it was hers. She took slow and quiet steps up the rusting stairs, creeping up them silently waiting patiently for an answer from him.

Turning his head slightly to the side, only showing half of his face he responds quickly. “Well someone is Sherlock fucking Holmes today, so where is Watson? Is he getting fucked up the ass lost somewhere on the way here? I bet he got a bj in that store across from Kroger by that chick that used to always eye me,” Rose took a long breath and let out an agitated sigh. She was there to help him, not make him feel worse. 

“How does your strong language never fail you, even when you’re disconcerted? And Watson would not get lost if he stayed close to Sherlock,” Rose inquires at him, taking a step forward and resting a hand on his slender shoulder. He stiffened under her grasp automatically, brushing her hand off of him with his left hand. 

“Right, right. They’re too busy fucking to each other that they never stop so he can’t get lost. But why are you here again?” Dave fucking Strider being polite as he will ever be, but he is still an asshole to the core. His eyes red and puffy behind his shades of protection, trying his best to live without remembering how different he is from everyone else.

“I thought you’d like a camaraderie, David” Rose clasped her hands together and rubbed her fingers tips together until they interlocked. Carefully sitting down next to Dave’s right but far enough away from the edge, she’d prefer to not slip off the 5th story apartment building. Dave had fallen once before and it was not pretty, it was actually very gruesome to see of how many bones stuck out of his legs. It was a wonder how he could still walk properly without a limp nor a cane. But anyways, she kept her head up and ignored the growls and moans from the decaying bodies low below them that were clawing up at the roof. 

“Don’t call me that, Rosie, or you’ll be cursed with my most awesome nicknames that Kanaya could never handle when you see her.” His words slipped past his lips before he could think, Rose went silent. “Oh shit, my bad.”

“No it’s alright, David, I will see her soon.” Rose somberly smiled at him. 

Rose shook her head; crossing her legs diligently as her eyes scanned over her brother’s apparel after the conversation died down. His clothing was slightly torn near his shoulder area leaving his bare skin to show, blood specks covered him from head-to-toe with a small bandage covering small scratch marks near the back shoulder blade; it was all from his neighbor Mrs. Shawl. Rose and her sister Roxy had recently moved in with the two Strider brothers in early March next to their new neighbor, Mrs. Shawl. Mrs. Shawl was a nice woman and she cared for others more than herself, and out of everyone Dave found her first after she had been turned near the beginning. 

 

> Remember flashback, oh fuck no

Come on, Dave. Don’t be a stubborn asshole all the time. 

> Fine, show the flashback but make it quick

There she was, standing in all of her glory in the hallway in-between their two apartments. Red crimson slowly seeped out of the gash on her right eyebrow bone trailing down to her collarbone, skin greenish gray, and her sweet little floral dress covered in daisies is now torn and muddied. Mouth agape in shock, her head twitched around to face the Strider, her pure white blank eyes looking into his soul it seemed. That’s when it happened, he let out the breath he was holding, and he didn’t even realize that he was holding his breath until now. He now knew why he held his breath for so long, she so smelt horrible. Her normal flowery and overpowering perfume was gone and she really could really to use a squirt or two of it. Mrs. Shawl turned to face him with teeth barred ugly and yellow, she really needed to floss dead or not it’s hygienic. 

Dave chocked back a cry of sadness, the old woman was like a grandmother to him almost and seeing her like this was terrible. “I sure as hell didn’t think this was going to fucking happen to you of all people.” He managed to whisper low enough to not attract any more of the undead that could just be a floor below them. 

Clenching and unclenching his fingers, his fingers tightened around the long silver handle that lay in the palms of his hands. Palms soon grew sweaty as she took one step forward; keeping his eyes on her took a piece of wood off of the floor and threw it at her slim figure. Dodging the wood like James Bonds, Mrs. Shawl took it as her turn to lunge at him; swinging her claws outwards at Dave as foam started to fall out of her half cut open mouth. 

Sliding down the dirty hallway with a skidding halt she follows closely, swiping at the right shoulder, she lightly grazes him but leaves tears near the rim of his signature shirt. “Oh shit!” Dave hisses slowly as sharp pain sets into his shoulder blade area. 

The creature that was once Mrs. Shawl snarled in what seemed like glee and continued to aim at important areas of his arms, as if trying to make him unable to fight back and he knew it. Oh god oh did Dave wish someone would come help soon, trying to kill these things alone is let alone a death sentence and he would prefer to live a bit longer even in the now shittier world. 

Wait no— Splat!

Blood sprayed over the walls and ceiling and few specks flying all over Dave and somebody else, Mrs. Shawl’s limp body falls to the ground with a loud thud. Opening his eyes slowly his eyes focused to find a bloody Roxy with a sad smile on her face; glancing down at Mrs. Shawl he saw she had used her bright red rifle with the silencer attached. The head wound to Mrs. Shawl had left all of her blood to drain onto the floor around the two cousins, Roxy made the first sound between the two after a good ten minutes. 

“Let’s go back inside, Davey.” Roxy’s voice lit up the entire situation. She was here and wasn’t dead and that’s all Dave cared about at the moment. Walking over to Dave and squishing him tightly into her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, exclaiming softly into the side of his neck, “Don’t you ever do that again.” 

 

> End of flash back, finally

Dave peeked over at his twin sister Rose through his shades; he was so done with today already even if it was just 5:35. Positioning his shoulder in such a way ready for impact of standing giving his shoulder blade a warning and stood on his own two feet. Rose looked up in surprise at him and smiled and pulled herself up with the railing. 

“Ready to descend already?” Her tranquil voice asks him as she waved her hand over the rusted stairs over in the farthest corner away from Dave’s personal ledge. He nodded and started on his way to the stairs when his head began to spin and he collapsed onto the cold pavement of the rooftop a little too close to the ledge. Blackness shrouded his vision as he lets go of all of his senses with the last words echo into his mind, ‘Dave, no, you’re too close to the ledge!’


	2. Broken Necks And A Car Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane Crocker shows how badass she can be and comes into the story to save the emotional bisexual, John Egbert.

Chapter Two: 

> Be the Nick Cage fangirl

Hey! Now, now I am not a girl. I would be a fanboy- wait no! I didn’t mean to say that I meant prankster!

 

> Fine, be the picky fanboy named John Egbert

Let’s go back two weeks earlier to see what happened when this all started, shall we? 

 

> Go back to the past!

A black mop of hair pokes out of the thick wooly blanket covering a 16-year-old boy, his glass lay on the dark carpet beside the old love seat. His head rested up against the ancient armrest with his feet touching the other side of it with little snores erupting out of this mound of flesh every few seconds. Even if he would deny the fact that he snores, he is one hell of a loud snorer. Then it happened, he had done it now, he had rolled off the love seat onto his glasses with a earning yelp of pain. Yep, that was how he wakes up in the morning and this morning was like any other. Today was March 5, and he had a bad feeling about today already deep in his gut. 

With a yawn and sleep filled eyes, the boy sits up. Scanning his area, his blue eyes grow wide as he looks at the time. It is 11 AM, oh no! School started two hours ago without him.. oh well. Standing up with a groan the teenager stretched. 'I wonder if Dad is still on his business trip..' He thought to himself as he started to fold the blanket he had used to sleep with earlier. 

Then a something happened that scared the living shit out of the poor guy, a forceful crash shook the house like a miniature earthquake; falling over landing on his rump with a loud thump. Gnawing at his bottom lip as he kept to himself with the curse words that filled his brain in a matter of seconds. Then he heard it— a scream that will forever haunt him for the rest of his life. He swears on his life that he saw something green flash when he fell from the shake. Maybe it was just his imagination? He hoped so. 

Legs feeling like sticks he walked over to the windowpane to stare out of his blinds to discover what happened with no idea of what he’d see. Then he saw it, it was his Dad’s car! But wait. Where was his dad? The white car had run into the thick oak in the front of his yard managing to miss the tire swing completely but his mailbox was long gone stuck underneath the car. His stomach did flips and felt as if it turned into jelly. This couldn’t be happening to him, could it? 

“Dad!” His voice was gone by the end of the three-letter word. Running forward to the front door, unlocking the two locks, and yelled for his father to wait there. Tripping over the base stick of the mailbox ending with knees scraping over the warm concrete. “Ow, ow, ow!” He let’s out a yelp as his picked himself up to discover what laid in the front seat of the driver seat, his dad. It was more than just his dad; it was a corpse. His neck was swung over to the left with his head crooked and slung over in a inhuman way with blood running down his chin to drip blood every now and then onto his white pants. 

“Dad...?” John whispered quietly with a parched voice. “Dad??” His voice grew louder as he reached out over the broken window shield and shook Dad’s shoulder. Pulling his arm out of the car with wide eyes and tears starting to flow, he screamed. “Help! Someone help! There was a car crash!!” He screamed at the top of his lungs with his hands cupped around his mouth. He didn’t know what to do. He was confused and questions rushed to his head faster than a cheetah. ‘What was that green light from earlier, why did Dad hit the tree, why was no one coming to help him, what was that groan?’ His thought process stopped and his azure eyes slowly peeked down into the car.

“What?” Another deep groan erupted out of the figure in the car, “Dad!” Smiling as he leaned against the torn metal of the car door; Dad was moving. ‘But how was he alive with a snapped neck like that?’ His conscience echoed in the back of his mind. Then his world fell apart in an instant.

Milky white eyes looked up at the raven-haired boy, the pupils were gone and skin started to turn gray. The Dad lifts up to his head and snapping his neck back into place with both hands with a large cracking noise. With skin starting to peel off the top of the hands; he sits up in a more comfortable position and keeps his eyes locked with John. John didn’t have any clue of what to do, say ‘oh hey you’re back, I missed you!’ but that didn’t seem appropriate. Then John did something stupid, he turned around with his back facing his Dad as he turned to face another noise he heard from the neighbors backyard. Then Dad sprung, his arms wrapping around his son’s neck and waist, clawing at the flesh that is covered by a pure white shirt. John didn’t even have time to react with a scream or even a flail.

Zip— Crunch.

Clenched eyes and fitful breaths, John opened his eyes slowly to see what has happened to the other. There she was, Jane Crocker, his neighbor standing above him. A red sharped spoon rests his her right hand, her red painted nails contrasting with the dark purple blood on the spoon. Slumping over with upset emotions; leaning against her chest with his eyes closing back like they were. Taking fitful breathes and a bloody back, John decided to pass out in exhaustion not caring about what was about to come next since his face was head first into Jane's boobs. And he has the idea that 99.9% he is going to get hit for it.


	3. Trash Bins and Metal Through an Abdomen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave needs to stop getting hurt by everything and a new character comes into play.

Chapter Three:

> Be someone amazing

That can be anyone, be more specific!

 

> Then I pick someone blonde and pretty, 

Okay buddy, let me tell you this, all blondes are pretty. Don’t be such a picky asshole. 

 

> Stop being difficult, 

Fine, you get to have Roxy Lalonde then! But if you wanted the other Lalonde then you got the closest you were going to get. 

 

> Be The Best Lalonde, Roxy

Today is March 28, a Monday evening with bright sky and low hopes with not a cloud in the sky to be seen. Did Roxy have hope to survive this mad world? No, she didn’t. All she cared about now was her cousins and little sister Rose surviving this mess. Roxy hadn’t always been so close with the Striders, she and Rose used to live all the way up in New York in a tiny urban town with little to no neighbors. Within a month period of time, the Lalondes would already to know everyone’s name in the town. It was heartbreaking for Roxy to have to leave the little town she cared for so much, being the manager of the local bar Attaboy, people would really miss her wonderful catering. While Rose didn’t miss the little town unlike her older sister, people always left her alone to herself to read in the library all day so they never got to know her well. The little town was now but a distant memory compared to the big city of Houston, Texas, which is a nightmare. 

Blonde curls bounce and dip as a pair of long slender legs take off the ground, leaving deep foots tracks in the muddy ground below them; moans and groans follow in suit. She pants and whips her head around to look over her shoulders to count how many that follow, there were 4 of them, just fucking great.

“Ah domnet.” She blinked quickly and then recorrected herself as she pulled out her large red rifle out from her side. “Damn it.” She had only three bullets to use and nothing to silence the sounds her large weapon would make if she fired. 

Crunch- pink iris’ whip back ahead of herself just to stop right in front of a big hole dug and filled with decomposing bodies clawing at the opening that she stood at. Holding her breathe and nasty ideas filling her head, she hopped over a clear fishing line leading beside the pit. Once passed the wire trap, she stood up and grinned like she just won first place in an arcade game until she heard the several steps of raw feet behind her. Uh oh, she had completely forgotten about the zombies behind her!

Then it happened- she accidentally flinched when a rotting hand grabbed her ankle, from below, making her hands rise up high above her sides at her shoulders with the large weapon still in hand. Doing this action, Roxy had set the trap she had tried to avoid a mere few seconds earlier. The huge red riffle pressed against the clear fishing wire with as much weight it can carry, signaling a red-and-blue police siren to go off as loud as one can possibly go. If you’re in the apocalypse, like them, you know to run and run she went. 

 

> This is boring; can we skip this and get back to Dave??

If you said please that would be nice. 

 

> Fine, please? 

Only because you said please Mr. Pickypants. But don’t be so rude next time. 

 

> Go on then! 

Roxy heard a chilling scream and that sent her nerves aflame. She has been on edge ever since the beginning of this mess that had begun only two weeks ago. 

“Rosie?” Roxy’s voice echoed quietly into the sky as she stuck her head out of the window of her room. Biting her lip and listening for a response that silence only replied. 

Tearing of open flesh filled her eardrums as she ran closer to the open window in Dirk’s room, Dirk had the only room in their apartment that would lead to the metal stairs connecting all of the apartments in their building. Kicking the door open to reveal Rose’s form in the window, her eyes begin to grow wider by the moment at what she sees. Her eyes slowly scan Rose from head-to-toe to notice something very important, blood. It wasn’t old zombie blood either, it was human blood and it was fresh.

“Whose blude is that Rosie..?” Roxy didn’t care to correct herself of her mistake of pronouncing her words at the moment. Rose shook her head and brought her hand to her mouth silently as she tried to wipe the blood off of herself onto her pure white skirt at her waist. 

“Dave fell off the roof onto Mrs. Shawl’s satellite dish.” Rose paused as she tried to regain her voice from her scream from a minute ago, “He fell into our neighbor’s trash bin all the way down to ground level, he’s hurt and zombies are crowding around him at the very moment. We have to hurry.” This is the second time Dave had fallen from their 5th story apartment building, good job Dave.

From that moment on was one big blur of running and of kicking zombie ass down in an alley. 

 

> Skip the badassness and save the wounded? Check

Roxy did not expect to see Dave in such bad shape when they got to him. Nor had Rose mentioned how Dave, when he fell on the satellite dish before landing in the dumpster, got the metal rod of the satellite to go through his lower abdomen. Thanks for the detailed information Rose. 

“How are we going to get him out of here??” Roxy asked the most important query at the moment. He was what they came down there to save but yet neither of them had come up with a plan, so smart.

“I don’t know..” Rose paused and kept her 1 ft. long needles high in her hands ready for a fight. It hurt anyone’s eyes to stare at them for too long with how polished Rose had them, sometimes Roxy thought she could even blind her enemies with them if she needed too. “Wait- more is coming!” Light footsteps and deep growls near closer from the main street onto the opening of the alleyway. Dave had fallen into the back alley that leads into a corner so either you go up the rusted stairs that start at the first floor or you go through the main doors of the apartment complex that face the main street full of zombies. 

But it was no zombie that made those footsteps; it was no other than Karkat Vantas. Why was Karkat in Houston? Hell if Roxy knew, she barely even knew the guy; all she knew about him was that he lived a city over. He always showed up when Dave and he were paired up for a Spanish project, being that he was bilingual in Spanish and English, he was the only reason Dave didn’t fail the class. If he didn’t fail the class, she didn’t care if he spent the night or not. She gave no shits about it.

“Holy fuck!” And that was the first words he had said to the sisters since he had seen them in over a month. Now they had to explain why Dave was hurt and in a dumpster bleeding to death without Karkat yelling, good luck. 

 

> Yeah it didn’t work, shut him up quick

Roxy did the first thing that came to her mind; stuff her scarf into his mouth. It worked for a minute at least until Karkat caught onto what they were trying to do, so he spit her scarf out with a deep growl in reply. 

“What the fuck was that for??” Karkat whisper yelled terribly to Roxy with Roxy beaming in reply. Man did that sixteen year-old suck at whispering. 

“Stop quarreling we have to get Dave out of here promptly.” Rose told the two others. If not for Karkat rushing things as he started pulling Dave out of the extensive dumpster, Roxy would not have come up with a stupidly smart plan. 

“I got it!” Roxy smiled in like a cat-like way as she pointed up to the rusty stairs high above them. “That’s what we have to do guys, get Davey onto the lid of the dumpster and then someone pulls him up onto the stairs to safety. The two get him to our living room stat, while the person left behind, then pushes the dumpster back to its place far away from the stairs so the zombies can’t get up there. Leaving them to go back to our apartment through the front doors!” This plan was too stupid and nothing else to go by so they did it with more chance to fail then succeed, but screw it. 

“Roxy, Karkat, you go and bring David to the living room quickly. Dirk should be back tonight,” Rose told the two as she stepped into the dumpster where her twin lie. 

 

> The plan to go wrong is a go

Lifting Dave up slowly, with trying to avoid the metal rod dangling in his abdomen, Rose pulled him onto the lid of the dumpster. Karkat and Roxy stand hovering over the start of the stairs; looking down at the bloody pair at ground level. Karkat lies on his right side reaching his hands down for the wounded’s shoulders, Rose lifted Dave up to the tan skinned male reaching out for him. Catching Dave and pulling him up to safety, it was time for Rose turn to do her part in the plan. Go through the front doors of the apartment building facing the main avenue filled with the undead. With Karkat pulling out his colorful sickle and Roxy carrying Dave in her arms, they had a good trek of rusty stairs to go up with a blood trail left behind. 

 

> Push the trash bin already

Rose sighed and smiled up to the two making their ways slowly up the rickety stairs above her, she wished them the best of luck. Securing the needles at her sides, she begins to push the trash bin back a good 5 ft. away to the opposite building. It wasn’t there before but she couldn’t risk the chance of the zombies climbing onto it to get up to her apartment with Dave and the others. As if on cue zombies begin to pour into the alleyway to see what had created such an audible sound against the ruff concrete, Rose readied herself for the battle. 

“This is for my love, Kanaya, may you be safe away from these cannibalistic bastards.” Rose whispered to herself as she pulled out the black and grey needles ready for combat against the foes in front of her. Running ahead through the crowd of undead, dark purple blood splatters onto white apparel and the buildings surrounding the alleyway. Rose’s figure is lost in the crowd from where Roxy’s eyes can see, now it was her turn to bring Dave to safety with Karkat’s assistance. But will this stairs give out on them before they make it up the top? Or is something waiting for them in their apartment?


	4. Bad Dream With A Shade of Purple?

Chapter Four:  
> Write another chapter faster  
Excuse you. I can take my time if I like. 

> Come on, what’s going to happen to them??  
Who is them? I have never heard of a person named them before. 

> Did you just try to dad joke me?   
Well it’s more fun if you lightened up about it, son. 

> Can you please not go back in the past so often? It’s confusing.   
Only since you said please.

> Be a bucktoothed dork  
You got it, John Egbert coming right up!

What day is it? Oh wait- what was that? You can ask someone named Jane Crocker what day it is and she’ll know? Let’s wait and do it in a few minutes my butt is tired.  
With a silent groan of fatigue the teenage boy stands up rubbing his rump with a few bones here and there popping all over his sore body. Why was he rubbing his rump? The reason why is, he had been sitting down in one too stiff wicker chair all night guarding a door and a few windows from the undead. Normally you wouldn’t have to sit up all night to guard a door and a few windows, but last night something had gotten in and it almost got to Jane.  
His azure eyes scanned the area one last time before heading out to the tiny kitchen down the hall, the weapon still balled up tightly within his fingers as he made slow steps down the narrow hallway. Little hums of a tune grow louder the closer John stepped into the kitchen to see Jane pulling a fresh new batch of cookies out of the oven.  
“John? I thought you were still on your shift. Hungry yet? You haven’t eaten anything for the last 12 hours.” Jane scolded him after he made his appearance known in the kitchen by a small unneeded cough. With a soft smile and a warm batch of cookies in hand, turning around, Jane plopped a cookie in the empty hand of the other.   
While John was given the baked sweet, he would not eat it later like he always promised her he did. He didn’t mean to not eat or be rude by not eating her baked goods, but when your companion only bakes and that reminds you of your dead dad, it’s a little hard to focus without memories flooding back from a bite of rich sweetness. Jane understood this, hell she felt terrible herself for always baking and making John depressed from her habit, but baking sweets made herself feel better. The two were like yin and yang, different yet similar in certain ways.   
John rested his zillyhoo hammer on the beige counter on his right, the cookie till in the palm of his left hand, crumbling as his fingers gripped its edges. “Thank you Jane,” he told her with a somber-looking smile.   
With a quiet sigh from Jane, she set her batch of cookies down on the stove. Although gloves still covering her hands in a pastel blue, she gave John an awkward side hug. She knew he most likely push her away and say he’s fine and to not worry about him like always said to her but this time he repays her kindness by hugging back.   
At moments like this, these are the memories John will never forget even in the chaos of this world falling apart. No one has ever treated John like she did and he loved it, she was the one who cheered him up when he was down and she was always there for him when others weren't. He’s never felt so close to someone who wasn’t related to himself, but he didn’t care, she was kin to him. With no government to keep the country of the United States in line, there was nothing to tell John he couldn’t get adopted into Jane’s family. No- he’ll make a new family! One only filled with love and happiness only and no sadness or death can break them apart. 

> Hey, sorry to break the family moment but-  
What?

> Someone’s knocking on the front door.  
Oh shit! What was that- something just knocked on the front door? Knuckles connected with the thick wooden door twice and it did not sound like a body just scraping against the door like it did last night.   
Two pairs of cerulean-colored eyes connect as soon as ears picked up on the sound from outside the home. Jane’s mouth agape showing her pearly white buck teeth poking out from underneath her upper lip. With a gulp and a nod, John put the cookie down and gripped his zillyhoo weapon with both hands as he took quiet steps to the front door. Take slow steps now, you don’t know what is on the other side of that door, it could be a zombie more sophisticated than the others.  
Taking the rusted down handle in the palm of his left hand and standing up taller on his tippy-toes to look through the key-hole, John saw something he wouldn’t expect. It was a male with violet colored apparel cladded down with several fake bushes and leaves, he was a very bulky man too. The knock sounds again but quieter this time, maybe the man was impatient? Turning his head over to face Jane, he nods and unlocks the door with the several auditory clicks able to be heard from the outside. Opening the door, to see more of the man continued to shock John.  
“Good to see a living person or two, but you two should’ve kept a better look on your entrances, boy. Good luck next time.” With a sickening grin the man steps forward closing the space between John and him quickly.   
“John look out!” With a high-pitched squeak from Jane, the cool feeling of metal is felt against his cranium. A deafening ring sounds in his ears as his world darkens around him.  
***  
> Are you messing with us now? Was it just a dream??  
Screams, violent shaking, and crying is how John has been waking up lately ever since the incident happened. It hasn’t been the same either, he’s been waking up colder than ever, no blanket able to stop his chills. With blankets piled and piled over each other it just isn’t the same. She’s gone, she’s gone and it’s his fault.


End file.
